


Picking Up the Pieces

by deathwailart



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Hurt, Leaving Home, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein a romanced Hawke and Anders go their separate ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up the Pieces

It's not that far from the Gallows to High Town where he picks up the last of his things, not the fancy odds and ends or the things he could sell but all those inconsequential possessions that mean the world to him. They're not expensive, these things he takes with him but the last scraps of his old life that he brought from Lothering, on the run again, not the horror of Darkspawn but the horror of people out for vengeance on his mind. Vengeance, that's a bad thing to think about really. Vengeance, Justice or Anders but at the end of the day, it doesn't make a difference or not a big enough one to sway him - he tried, Maker help him he tried to do something when he could feel Anders pulling away but Anders comes with a long history of being made to do things, to stay places, to fit into roles and he was scared of pushing him away. Anders had always been honest about some things, that he'd hurt Hawke, that he'd break his heart, that there were things that were so much bigger than them.  
  
There are no calls of 'fine day Serah Hawke' because it is not a fine day - truth be told he doesn't know what time it is - but the sky is thick with smoke, especially here as Dog whines and presses close as if seeking to reassurance his master. Sebastian will be on his way to assemble an army to destroy Kirkwall, to burn it and Hawke almost wants to call out to everyone he sees to get out while they can but that would incite panic and so he doesn't bother  
  
"It'll be okay old boy," he lies and Dog knows because he's not stupid but still he wags his tail and barks. Orana is gone and Hawke feels guilt hit him like a kick to the gut because he was meant to help her although maybe Bodahn has taken responsibility for her for the moment. This house was meant to be special, it was meant to be him, mother, Bethany, Carver and Dog where they would make new memories and live comfortably. Bethany will now be bones picked clean and covered over with new growth with a Templar giving her her last rites. Mother lies in an urn alongside the family Hawke never knew. Bethany is back off with the Wardens to go beneath the earth fighting Darkspawn. Bodahn and Sandal (hopefully Orana) will be off to Orlais. Anders will go...Hawke doesn't know where Anders will go but it will be far away, doing what he can for his cause and the cause of all mages. Hawke grabs a copy of that damn manifesto and a stray feather that he was forever finding all over the house even before Anders moved in and he tucks them in his pocket as he closes the estate door for the last time. Maybe Gamlen will move in, lose it again. Maybe people will squat in it the way Fenris did at his own estate – or maybe someone will make a proper home of it because it deserves that even if he failed miserably himself. Instead it was a man and his mabari, like some awful sort of dog lord cliché and even leaving he couldn't make himself go into her room and had stood with a hand upon the door saying he was sorry.  
  
Nothing and no one stop him on his lonely walk down to the docks. He doesn't stop to help. Doesn't look up. Doesn't even walk really, it's a trudge, dragging his feet because if he stops now he might just sit here and turn to stone. But he reaches the ship that Isabela has taken for her own and clambers aboard, throwing himself down with a sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. Right now he thinks all he wants is to sit down for five minutes (with a sandwich and tea with elfroot and honey) and not worry about anything for five minutes. Not that fate listens, fate likes to piss on Fereldans who just want a simple life and instead find themselves at the heart of everything, or maybe that's those from the Amell line in the Hero of Ferelden and his mother's story of how she was from their line is anything to go by.  
  
"What about Anders?" It's Varric who asks, Varric who looks as exhausted as the rest of them rubbing at his brow.  
  
"He's not..." Hawke can barely get the words out and it feels like telling mother (or not telling) about Bethany, like forcing himself not to tell Gamlen exactly what had happened to mother and in the end he simply shakes his head and takes hold of whatever hand grabs him to get him on the ship, Dog following with a bound. "I couldn't go with him, not after that," he finishes quietly, collapsing down between Varric and Merrill. They fought for the mages, he fought for his father, his sister, his mother's cousin who lost so many of her babies to the Circle including the one that went on to be a great hero but who still wasn't enough to turn the stigma around. Fenris fought alongside them, maybe Sebastian would have too but Hawke couldn't kill Anders. He loved Anders and he realises with a sudden acute pain that he always will, that he will never find anyone who can take his place or even come close, that the spirit of Anders will haunt him the way Justice did the apostate.  
  
"I'm sure he'll be alright," Merrill pipes up but she's subdued, looking to Isabela for reassurance as they cast off. "I mean he's run away before. Alone. There are lots of places he could go if he didn't want to be found by anyone."  
  
"It isn't an easy life," Fenris replies slowly, probably as exhausted as they all are.  
  
"There's always the Wardens," Hawke says even if Anders left once then there's still that, "or who knows, maybe he'll be the next Andraste."  
  
"Only more feathery," Merrill adds. It's wrong, her voice is tight, as though she's trying not to cry and Hawke's reminded of the caves when she found the bodies of dead friends and again when they faced Marethari. Hawke pulls her close even though he's covered in blood, sweat, ash and Maker knows what else, even though he's in pain without a healing potion and with no healer amongst them. He wonders how long it'll be before they drift away from each other and all he'll have are his memories. Maybe Bethany won't mind him crashing her Warden party for a bit, grieving all over her and making a nuisance of himself – he misses his little sister and envies her her purpose. Just a touch. She's finally found a place where she's wanted and can do good but Hawke's leaving that behind, a man, his dog, an oversized sword and a collection of junk from Lothering.  
  
"Aveline's staying," Isabela pipes up, confirming what they've all expected because they all know that Aveline is loyal and that she has done so much for Kirkwall, maybe not as brashly as Hawke has done (any other time he'd laugh at the thought or at least snort, at Aveline who was as much a blunt warrior as he doing things with more finesse) but she's cleaned up the guard. She _is_ the guard, her and Donnic. Maybe they'll have a chance now with Meredith and Orsino gone to try to right some wrongs, maybe Cullen will be more moderate (anyone would seem moderate in comparison to Meredith) and maybe Sebastian will not come with his army. They need prayers more than swords and bows and arrows.  
  
"I'll let it die down, find out what I can but Kirkwall wouldn't be Kirkwall without me. Someone needs to make sure Aveline doesn't make that damned 'don't' sign anyway," Varric says, sagging against the railing.  
  
"I think I'll go wander, there are bound to be other places no one'll mind me staying in." Merrill sounds so much less sure of herself and Dog wanders over to butt his face into her hands. She's got even less of a home than Hawke but after stroking the mabari's ears, she seems to perk up. "Maybe I'll start my own clan, look for old artefacts in need of fixing. Do it properly this time."  
  
"That's the spirit," Isabela says but even her smile looks strained around the edges. Fenris rests a hand on her shoulder and squeezes gently and part of Hawke aches – he did that to Anders so often when he was awake and writing his manifesto, never coming to bed.  
  
"What about you Rivaini, Broody?"  
  
"I've always wanted to see Llomerryn, see where you're queen."  
  
Hawke has to turn away, the fondness reminds of what he's lost and though he's so happy for them – because Andraste's mercy he is – it rubs against all the raw parts of him and he knows that once the shock wears off, once he's slept, it's going to be so much worse.  
  
"What about you Hawke?" Varric looks shattered and the smile he tries to summon comes out so wrong but Hawke makes him smile back, after all, it's what Hawke does, offers one-liners and silly comments that provoke groans or remarks.  
  
"Oh you know me, a man and his mabari, I'll get up to all sorts." Dog barks and he pats his head. Varric's eyes are miles away and Merrill belongs to the land not the sea, a wanderer born – at least Fenris and Isabela look right like this, the wind in their hair, hip to hip as she curves her hands around the wheel, Fenris cupping a compass in one hand. They look so right together and if Hawke will take nothing else from this, he'll take with them he helped them meet, that being his friends they overcame their pasts to make something new for themselves, two who know just how high the cost of freedom truly is.  
  
A man and his mabari, two old dogs roaming the wilds. Not the grand sort of adventures Varric liked to elaborate on but it's enough for Hawke; they've rebuilt Lothering now, maybe it's about time to go home after all.


End file.
